


What His Heart Wants

by Mercurians



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Like a year and a half post-canon, M/M, One Shot, Slow Burn, Some angst, Yoosung's POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 15:29:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9826463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mercurians/pseuds/Mercurians
Summary: Yoosung is looking for friendship when he starts spending time with Saeran Choi. He winds up with so much more than he expected.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is the product of me wanting more Yooran "falling in love" fics to happen from Yoosung's point of view, then getting carried away for about 20,000 words. I hope you enjoy my long-windedness?
> 
> Thank you to Ana and Alex for helping me edit and being wonderful and supportive. ♥ Also thanks to Fo, Rain, and Six. We talk so much about Yooran, I'm sure I swiped all of their ideas at some point.

I still remember one conversation I had with Saeyoung, shortly after the engagement party. I was so curious about Saeran. Our new member, our former enemy, Saeyoung’s _secret twin brother_. Naturally, I wanted to know everything about him. Eager for information, I asked Saeyoung something simple but broad. Something he could answer any way he wanted.

“Would you say you and Saeran are alike? Given that you’re twins and all.”

I remember that he smiled. “In some ways,” he told me. “But I’ve always thought of him as my better half.”

“Oh yeah?” It was all I could say, but my expression must’ve given away my inner thoughts.

“Let me guess. Based on your image of Saeran, as the former hacker, you’re wondering what I could possibly think is so much better about him.”

I shook my head. “No, that’s not true! I just....”

“It’s all right.” Saeyoung didn’t look upset. He shrugged, a tiny smile on his face. “Eventually you’ll all see it, too. Saeran was... a little weak growing up. I was always looking out for us both. I had to be the strong one. The clever one. But he was....”

Saeyoung paused. The wistful look on his face faltered, a slight twitch of his eyebrows. A tiny frown. I held my breath, waiting for him to finish.

“Curious. And gentle. Also, completely sincere, as though hiding his feelings never even crossed his mind. There wasn’t much for either of us to enjoy as kids, but the things he _did_ love, he loved without question. His heart just can’t deny the things that it wants. It’s a weakness and a strength, to be honest. But....” He gave a small laugh. “It’s the best quality either of us have.”

I watched him closely. Though I’d known him for years, recently it felt like I’d just met Saeyoung for the first time, as well. And I guess that in a way I had.

“You’ll see that part of him someday, too.”

I nodded. “I hope I can.”

 

 

 

 

We were two hours into the RFA party, and someone had already drunkenly broken a bottle of wine.

There was the shattering sound, followed by this total hush over the party hall. Every conversation stopped. Every head in that crowded room was turned toward the source of the noise. And then, while I’m sure every other RFA member was still registering what had just happened, the ever-reliable Jaehee was already rushing across the floor in her heels, waving to a bartender to call the custodian.

When everyone returned to their own duties and conversations, I stayed where I was, absentmindedly watching the cleaning crew place out barriers while one of them discarded chunks of glass into a plastic bag. They had these yellow cones set up around the far-reaching shards. All of the guests had to squeeze together at the room’s perimeter while they cleared the area. On the other end of the blast zone, I watched the culprit follow Jaehee across the hall, apologizing for the tenth time while she insisted once again that it wasn’t a major inconvenience. She had her backed turned to him, a raised hand waving her indifference. But of course, he has too drunk to get the hint and let it be.

I scowled into the glass of champagne at my lips. “It’s _two in the afternoon_.”

A soft hum at my side made me jump. I glanced over, and Saeran was standing beside me, leaning up against the wall with a tiny smirk on his face.

“Oh!” I tried to keep my voice steady. “I didn’t see you there. What, um....” I set my glass of champagne on a ledge in the wall, remembering that Saeran disliked alcohol. He probably didn’t mind, but I wanted to play it safe. “What are you doing over here?”

His playful smile beginning to fade, Saeran faced forward. “Same thing you’re doing. Avoiding talking to people.”

“I’m not avoiding,” I said. “I’m taking a break. I _like_ talking to party guests.”

“Hmm. But not that guy?” He nodded toward the bottle breaker, who had finally parted from Jaehee and was leaning over the bar, begging the bartender for something.

“That guy.... Well he’s a bit, um....”

“C’mon,” Saeran said. “You can say it. He’s a pushy jerk who got drunk midday at a charity event.”

I made little attempt to hold back my smile. “You said it, not me.”

We stood there silently, back to observing the scene ahead of us. The smile on my face lingered. When I cautiously glanced over, Saeran wasn’t exactly _smiling_ , but his expression had a lightness to it I’d rarely seen. Relaxed around the eyes. A contentedness.

This was something new for me: an amiable exchange with Saeran Choi. Had we ever spoken like this, in the year and a half since Saeyoung brought him home? A healthy back-and-forth. No scowling, no awkward shrugs to deflect my questions. Enlivened by this development, I glanced hurriedly around the room.

“Hey,” I said. “Look at that guy.”

“Which guy?”

“That one! With the... ears?” His gaze followed the direction of my index finger, which pointed to a gray-haired, balding businessman type socializing with some elites across the hall. He would have blended in with the stuffy bankers and CEOs in the room, if not for the stuffed cat doll he held against his chest and the white fluffy cat ears perched on his head.

I turned to Saeran just in time to watch his expression turn into something of annoyed disbelief. He tilted his head. “What the hell?”

I snorted involuntarily at the sincerity of his reaction, but Saeran didn’t seem to mind. When he looked my way, I stopped pointing and grinned conspiratorially. “Three guesses as to who invited _him_.”

“Uhh.” Saeran looked up at the corner of his eye, thinking hard. “Jumin, Saeyoung, and MC.” He looked back at me then, straight-faced. “... Was that right?”

I blinked. “Huh? No, I meant three guesses to....” But then, considering his answers, I laughed. “Okay no, you’re right. It definitely could’ve been any of those three.”

Rolling his eyes, Saeran let out a disgusted sigh. “Cat freaks.”

Cat freaks, huh? I had the urge to ask Saeran whether he liked cats, and if not, what sort of animals he preferred instead. But I was also hesitant to break our record-breaking conversational streak, and in my momentary pause, he nodded to another guest. “This one, too. Weirdo.”

“Oh my God,” I said, immediately pinpointing the subject in question. “Why is that guy even here?”

“Welcome to the RFA party,” Saeran mumbled sarcastically.

“Black tie optional, creepy mummy outfit encouraged.”

That one earned me an actual _giggle_ from Saeran, and my chest swelled with pride. I’d never heard him laugh before, not even in response to Saeyoung or MC. It was a nice laugh. Uneven and higher pitched than you’d expect, but that just made it feel more genuine. He quickly tried to mask it, rubbing his nose and regaining a look of composure, but it was too late. I was already hooked.

“Have you talked to any of those models from that agency yet? I greeted their whole group when they came in.”

Saeran shook his head. “Why? What were they like?”

I lowered my voice, feeling a little guilty for the impending judgemental comment, but even more thrilled to have someone to express it to. “Like a dozen self-absorbed Zens, minus the charming parts.”

He smirked. “You think Zen is _charming_?”

The comment caught me off-guard. “A little!” I admitted, feeling my face flush. “I mean, he’s obviously doing _something_ right, because most women seem instantly attracted to him. Why, you don’t think so?”

“Not really,” Saeran said. He grimaced slightly. “Pretty high praise for a guy with a rat tail.”

That got a laugh from me. “Oh my God.” I covered my mouth. “I can’t believe you called it that.”

He nodded to a guest passing by. “Speaking of rats, look at this one.”

The longer we talked, the less I wanted to stop. I was supposed to be hosting a party, socializing and encouraging donations and such, but instead I found myself stuck in this corner with Saeran criticizing our own guests. Though I didn’t manage to pull another laugh out of him, I got a number of genuine smiles and exchanged glances, which I took as a big success. And I had to admit, there was something invigorating about speaking all the harsh judgements that I normally kept under wraps. It was out of character for me, but Saeran didn’t seem to mind. In fact, I think he kind of liked it.

When we’d seemingly run out of weird guests to poke fun at, I finally took the leap and changed the subject. “I’m glad you came and talked to me.” I spoke just loudly enough for him to hear me over the murmurs of conversation all around us. “This is fun.”

Saeran cast his eyes across the room, stiffening up as he leaned against the wall. “... Yeah.”

For a second I panicked, sensing that I may have spoiled the conversation. But he didn’t look quite angry or upset. His expression was still relaxed. I pushed forward. “You and I don’t talk very much. To be honest, I always got the impression that maybe you didn’t, um, like me?”

He shrugged. “Maybe I didn’t.”

“O-oh....” My heart sank a bit at the comment. “But you do now?”

Saeran looked like he was deep in thought. His eyebrows furrowed, his front teeth biting at the corner of his mouth. After a few seconds, he responded. “You’re easier to talk to when you’re not trying so hard.”

“Oh!” For some reason, I started smiling. “Okay.... I think I understand. Yeah.”

He stopped biting his lip. “I’m going backstage now. It’s... noisy.”

“Alright,” I said. “Are you feeling okay? Can I get you anything?”

I watched his shoulders hunch up as he shrank visibly. Suddenly, I fully understood what he meant by me trying too hard. But this time, he straightened up again and shook his head calmly. “I’m fine.”

I smiled. “I’ll get back to hosting, then. See you, Saeran.”

“... Bye, Yoosung.” He walked away, disappearing around a corner that lead to the backstage area. I was left alone to analyze the feeling that had settled in me after our conversation. Taking my glass off of the wall and going for another sip, I decided that it was fun talking to Saeran. I didn’t need the champagne to let loose a bit, after all. Not that I was about to stop drinking it.

I didn’t want to pressure him too much. The “trying too hard” comment was still stuck in my head. But by the end of the evening, I decided it was best to try too hard than not at all, so I waited until the guests had cleared and Saeyoung had driven him home before sending a text.

 **(9:43 PM) Yoosung★:** Congrats on another successful party!

 **(9:43 PM) Yoosung★:** Do you want to maybe hang out sometime?

I received his response before I’d even left the venue.

 **(10:11 PM) Saeran:** Sure

 

 

 

 

Saeran and I got together five days later, a Wednesday. I showed up at the Choi household at 6 PM, having just bused from a club meeting. (A fortunetelling club—some friends convinced me to try it out. It was interesting enough, but I figured I wouldn’t go back.) Standing outside the door, I noticed the tiny ball of anxiety sitting in my stomach.

This panic was something relatively new to me. I’d always been so outgoing, but recently I had to swallow a hundred paranoid thoughts each time I hung out with someone new, Saeran being no exception. If anything, the fear of messing up with him was even _worse_.

In the midst of my stalling, the latch on the front door opened with a loud click, and I almost jumped out of my skin. Slowly, the metal door pushed open, and MC emerged from the corner with a canvas shopping bag slung over her shoulder. She smiled when she saw me, apparently unfazed by my presence. “Hey Yoosung! Here for your playdate?”

The smile on my face vanished. “P-play....”

She laughed, stepping out from behind the door and holding it open with one arm. “I’m kidding! Saeran’s waiting downstairs, though. I think he’s excited to see you!”

My eyes widened. “Really?”

She laughed at my reaction again, and this time I frowned, turning my face away. MC was nice, but sometimes she and Saeyoung made me feel like such a kid. I peeked over from the corner of my eye and watched her answer with a handwave. “Sure! You’d better not keep him waiting, Yoosung.” With that, she pushed the gate open further, gesturing in with her free arm.

“Thanks, MC.” I forced a smile as I headed downstairs into the bunker.

Saeran was sitting on the couch when I arrived, fixated on a book in his lap, totally immobile as I entered the room. Gripping the straps of straps on my backpack, I approached slowly. He didn’t seem to notice. Saeran didn’t look up as I stood beside the couch, or as I shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other. Raising a fist to my mouth, I coughed softly.

He looked up, wide-eyed. “Oh. MC let you in?”

I smiled. “Yeah. Sorry, I probably should’ve texted....”

“It’s okay.” Saeran closed his book without bothering to mark his place and dropped it onto the coffee table. Drawing his hands into his lap and staring at them, he fell silent.

“So,” I said, “uh, what did you want to do today?”

A expression that I couldn’t identify crossed his face and immediately disappeared. He answered softly. “Whatever you want to do is fine.”

I clung tighter to the straps on my bag. Fleetingly, I wondered whether I’d misread the whole situation, and Saeran only agreed to hang out to be nice. But I tried to stay positive. “Then... what do you usually do in your spare time? Obviously I play a lot of LOLOL, but I enjoy other things too! I like cooking, uh, or going on runs or walks, or....”

“I like walks.” He finally glanced in my direction.

“Oh, cool!” I grinned. “Do you want to go with me?”

He nodded. “Okay. I’ll get my shoes.”

Saeyoung was surprisingly relaxed about letting us go. I was anticipating an awkward negotiation and instead got a smile, a wave, and “be back for dinner.” Last I’d heard, Saeran only left the house with his brother’s supervision, and even MC didn’t take him places alone. But I supposed that was months ago. Before Saeyoung and I had grown so distant. Before the whole... Rika conversation.

Once outside the bunker, Saeran and I left the garage wordlessly, exiting onto the sidewalk outside. He and Saeyoung lived in a residential area at the edge of town, heavy with trees and low on traffic. On the sidewalk he stopped, burying his hands in his pockets and ducking his head.

“There’s a park I like to go to,” he offered.

I put on my warmest smile, although he wasn’t looking. “Sounds great! Lead the way.”

He nodded. We crossed the street, headed closer toward the city. As I followed a step behind, I paid attention to the way Saeran moved, to how he carried himself. He really _had_ changed in the past months. I could still remember the way he sat that day, when Saeyoung and MC invited me over to the bunker to have “a difficult conversation about something.” They sat on the couch across from me, while Saeran took a chair off to the side. He had his legs pulled up onto the seat, his long arms awkwardly hugged around his body. He didn’t make eye contact, and every movement seemed... small. Like he was trying to take up as little space and attention as possible.

I don’t remember much else about that day. I recall a few specific phrases in a very long speech (Saeyoung’s), two panic attacks (mine), and a lot of tears (from all of us, but mostly me). But I also remember Saeran sitting there, occasionally corroborating something the others said, but mostly just looking like he wanted to disappear.

He was different now. Not so shrunken into himself. Not to mention less pale, less sickly-looking. Still quiet and awkward in one-on-one conversation, but I hoped that was just shyness. I hoped he didn’t hate me.

There’s something else I noticed, too. Saeran seemed to walk with his head raised, looking toward the sky. I tried to look in the same direction.

“It’s a pretty day, huh?” I noticed the fluffy white clouds floating above the horizon.

He nodded, but he didn’t say anything. I shrank a bit. I _really_ hoped he didn’t hate me.

When Saeran stopped a few blocks later, I almost walked straight into him. I froze mid-stride, inches from his shoulder, then stumbled backwards. He didn’t seem to notice, his face turned to the side and settled in a look of contemplation. “What’s up?” I asked, hoping I sounded casual.

He pointed at the building beside us—a tiny hole-in-the-wall-type corner store. It was too bright to see inside, so the windows just reflected back on my awkward stance. Saeran spoke softly. “Can we stop in here?”

“Of course.” I offered a gracious smile and followed him inside.

It was a pretty average corner store. Dimly-lit, but the windows let in enough light that you could make your way around. I gave a polite greeting to the drowsy-looking cashier, then scanned over shelves and shelves of junk foods, over-the-counter medications, cheap DVDs, and....

Ah.

Saeran apparently knew what he was here for. Close to the entrance, there was an entire wall of candy in brightly-colored packaging. Some that I recognized, others that I didn’t. Looking closer I realized that half of them were imported. There was candy from Japan, from America, from China.... The shop owner must’ve had an obsession or something.

I picked something I didn’t recognize off of the shelf and examined it. “This is amazing. How did you find this place?”

Saeran answered bluntly. “The internet.”

He was a fast shopper. He started loading different packaged candies into a shopping basket, and with each one he added, my smile grew wider. Saeyoung mentioned once that Saeran had a sweet tooth, but this was ridiculous. This store had found its niche, and that niche was Saeran Choi.

A familiar set of packaging caught my eye. I dropped to my knees, taking a paper sleeve off of the bottom shelf. “Ohh, I haven’t had these in so long!”

“What is it?”

I held up the package. “Pop Rocks, see? I remember eating these when I was a kid.”

He bent in, examining the package closer, then pulled back. Saeran shook his head. “I’ve never had that.”

“Oh man, really?”

He frowned, shrinking slightly. I mentally smacked myself. There were probably tons of things Saeran had never tried. Of course he’d be self-conscious about it.

“N-no, I mean....” I stood up, still holding the package in my hands. “That’s exciting! I get to see you try them then.”

Saeran’s eyebrows furrowed. “Are they that good?”

“They’re....” I smiled, deciding to keep it a surprise. “They’re kind of weird, but in a good way! You’ll like them.”

After Saeran purchased his candy, which filled half of a grocery bag, and I purchased my two sleeves of Pop Rocks, we headed back on our way. There was no conversation for the rest of the walk, but I was starting to feel comfortable with it. Saeran must’ve liked the silence. That didn’t necessarily mean he didn’t like me.

The sun had already set by the time we got to the park, but he didn’t seem to mind. There was no one around, save for some teenage loiterers hanging out on a swingset. I remembered being in high school and thinking kids like that were probably delinquents. Now, I supposed, Saeran and I were the delinquents. Something about that thought excited me. I felt pretty childish for thinking so.

Saeran found an empty picnic table on top of a hill and sat down on top, his feet resting on the seat below. A single streetlamp about ten feet away offered enough light to see, although Saeran sat with his back to it, so I could barely make out his face. He didn’t say anything before setting his grocery bag of candy on his lap and digging around inside it. I awkwardly took a seat beside him, leaving a good amount of space between us. Saeran took a lollipop out of the bag, but he paused before unwrapping it.

“Did you... want to try, uh, your thing?” He had his head ducked, not looking straight at me.

“Yeah, sure!” I took the sleeves of Pop Rocks out of my pocket, handing him one. I ripped open the top of mine, and he followed. Pinching the sides of the sleeve to get a better look inside, Saeran stuck one finger in, breaking apart the grainy mound of pink candy inside. “It’s weird,” he said.

Suddenly I realized—I couldn’t get him to eat this without telling him what it was. It felt too much like a prank, and Saeran didn’t deserve that. “Okay, I should warn you,” I said. “When you put it in your mouth, it pops.”

He looked straight at me now, eyes squinted in confusion. “What?”

“It... it pops,” I repeated. “Like, it makes....” I put my hands up to my face, opening and closing my fists in quick motions. “Pop, pop, pop....”

Saeran just looked at me like I was stupid or crazy or both. I felt myself shrink, pressing my hands against my flushed cheeks. I watched Saeran lift a dime-sized hunk of candy out of the package and put it into his mouth.

Three seconds later, he spit it into the palm of his hand. “What the hell?”

I laughed, then closed my hands around my mouth. “Ahh, I’m sorry! I tried to warn you....”

Saeran’s eyebrows furrowed as he stared at the softly crackling wad of candy in his hand. I couldn’t tell whether he was annoyed or just confused. “How does it do that?” he said.

“Pressurized carbon dioxide.” I remembered looking it up once, years ago, and somehow the knowledge had stuck. “It makes little bubbles. When the candy starts melting, the bubbles open up and pop... or something like that.”

I expected Saeran to think I was weird for knowing that, but instead his expression softened. “Oh,” he said, apparently satisfied by the explanation. He put the candy back in his mouth, then licked the remainder of it from his palm.

This time, he stared at the ground with a straight-faced, almost sleepy expression. Then I watched the corners of his mouth twitch. Saeran started laughing, first low and breathy and then louder, the same laugh I heard at the party, high-pitched and barely restrained. I started grinning, too. It’s not at all the laugh I expected Saeran to have, but that’s what made it feel special. It totally lacked self-consciousness.

When his giggles died down, Saeran rested his elbow on his knee and hid his mouth behind his hand. I could still see the smile in his eyes. After a momentary silence, he spoke. “This is so weird.” Then he took another chunk of candy and put it in his mouth.

“Yeah....” I remembered the open package of candy in my hand and poured a bit into my mouth. The crackling felt gentle on my tongue, but the noise so close to my ears was loud. I glanced over at Saeran, who was squinting to read the back of the Pop Rocks package in the dark. Not wanting to interrupt, I lied down on the hard wooden slats of the picnic table, gazing at the darkening sky and its haze of white stars.

We were silent for a long time, both of us looking up at the stars.

I spoke again when I’d finished my candy. “You can see Pisces at this time of year.”

“Huh?”

“Oh.... The constellation. It’s, uh, my star sign. You can only see it clearly around the end of the year.”

“Mm,” Saeran said. I flinched, worried that I’d interrupted a meaningful silence with useless trivia. But instead, he encouraged me. “Do you know much about stars?”

I swallowed hard. “Um. Some things. I was in an astronomy club at school for a little while, so I know a little bit about constellations. Nothing that interesting, though.”

He paused. “Can you show me the one you were talking about? Pisces?”

I sat up automatically, a feeling of nervous tension creating static in my limbs. Leaning close to Saeran, I pointed a finger toward a cluster of stars above the horizon.

“Okay, so that bright one there is the bottom tip of the constellation. And then....” I drew my finger upwards. “It goes up, and those three stars there make a little triangle.” I went back to the bottom. “And this is the other side. It makes kind of a V shape. It’s, uh, supposed to look like two fish swimming away from each other? Not really, though....”

“Huh.”

I was suddenly very aware of the fact that our upper arms were touching. I pulled away, running a hand through my hair.

“Why did they think it looks like that?” he asked.

I laughed. “Who knows? I guess it’s kind of dumb, huh?”

“Yeah.” Saeran started digging around in his grocery bag, then pulled out the lollipop from earlier. “It’s cool that you knew, though.”

I think I started _blushing_. Suddenly I was grateful he’d picked a spot where it was too dark to see our faces. Even so, I was feeling more relaxed. Saeran actually asked a lot of questions. I was beginning to get a sense for his personality, and it was more sincere than I’d expected. I was working up the nerve to ask a question in return.

“Why do you like to come here, Saeran?”

He shrugged. “It’s a pretty good spot for a lot of things. Not many trees, so I can look at the clouds easily. Or the stars.” He paused. “Clouds are better, though.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm. Clouds can look like anything. With stars, it’s just dead guys telling you a bunch of dots look like some fish.”

I laughed. “Yeah, I guess so. I might be a little biased toward the stars, though.”

“That’s okay,” he said. “You can’t help it.”

“Hah.” I’d been staring at Saeran, at his darkened profile and the mess of curly red hair lit by the light behind us, but now I joined him in gazing upward. “Isn’t there something cool about that, though? Even if they don’t look like anything, people looked at these same stars thousands of years ago and documented all of them. Stars live for billions of years, so... I bet the very first human beings and the very last ones will have seen almost the same exact starry sky. That’s kind of incredible.”

“It’s sad,” Saeran said.

I looked over at him, saying nothing. He was gazing back. When he looked this way, half of his face was lit up, the other half dark. Two despondent green eyes were locked on me.

“I want to think that things can change,” he said.

Automatically I answered. “They can.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“Of course. Look at us.” I smiled. “We weren’t friends a few days ago, were we? And now we’re friends.”

Saeran smiled weakly. “Yeah.” He didn’t question it. That’s all he said.

 

 

 

 

I was more confident after that. Over the following days, Saeran and I started texting. At first my messages were cautious and sporadic—a gentle “did you eat lunch?” or “any plans for today?” But Saeran was unafraid to ask questions, and that showed his genuine interest.

Saeran liked to hear about what I was learning in my classes and clubs. The more interesting tidbits, at least. “Did you know puppies are born deaf and blind?” “Just learned that pigs are anatomically similar to humans lol.” He’d always ask me to explain further. It made sense that Saeran would have questions. Based on what I knew, he’d been... a bit sheltered, growing up. Now he seemed eager to learn everything. I found myself paying more attention in classes, just hoping for something to share with him.

I also sent him pictures. A stray cat on my walk to the bus. “It’s cute,” he texted back. A cloud that I thought looked like a whale. “I see a duck,” he responded. “Get your eyes checked.” I had to hold back a laugh in front of my friends.

And then, sometimes, Saeran would initiate a conversation.

“Saeyoung begging me to paint his nails. Make it stop.”

“Teenagers at the park stole my damn bench.”

“Made MC try the Pop Rocks today. Pretty funny.”

That last one had me grinning like an idiot during class. I was just glad he liked the candy enough to buy it again.

We didn’t have much opportunity to hang out, especially as my classes picked up, but almost once a week we’d make time to walk to the park together. He started opening up more. I learned a lot about Saeran. He was allowed to leave the house on his own as of two months ago, and he spent time outside almost daily. Aside from candy, Saeran’s favorite food was ice cream, but eating too much upset his stomach. He hated Ph.D Pepper _and_ Honey Buddha Chips. Dogs made him nervous, but he and Saeyoung had talked about getting a cat once they were moved out of the bunker. He liked books and movies. Some video games were okay, but most stressed him out.

I got the sense that Saeran was still exploring his own likes and dislikes. I suggested that each time we bought candy together, we could both try something new. He liked that idea.

Saeran was far from my best friend. He wasn’t someone I could text randomly in the middle of the night or open up to about my deepest problems. Especially not the stuff about Rika or Saeyoung. I didn’t want to misjudge things—I could sense the lingering wall between us, and I wouldn’t let myself ignore it this time.

Most of all, I didn’t want to scare him away. My worst fear was caring more about him than vice versa, and frankly, it still seemed possible. Still, I had hope that maybe we could be important to one another. Saeran was already really special to me.

 

 

 

 

I remember one evening when Saeyoung posted a new photo in the RFA messenger. I’d been at my kitchen sink, having just drained some pasta noodles and still waiting for a pan of sauce on the stove to finish heating. As I moved around the kitchen, getting my plate and silverware ready, my phone buzzed twice. I set everything down on the countertop and dug it out of my back pocket.

The photo in the messenger was captioned “DESSERT FOR DINNER THE ABSOLUTE MADMEN” and, predictably, it showed showed Saeyoung, MC, and Saeran sitting on their living room couch holding bowls of ice cream. Saeyoung had one arm extended to take the photo, while MC had her free arm draped over his shoulder. The two of them were balancing spoons on the tips of their noses. Leaning in for a closer look, I noticed that MC was slightly cross-eyed.... I guess she and Saeyoung were focused more on keeping the spoons in place than looking photogenic.

Saeran, meanwhile, sat further back with both hands cradling his heaping bowl of strawberry ice cream. He didn’t look super pleased or super annoyed. Just sort of shy, his eyes cast down to the side, his mouth pulled into a tight line. His cheeks were a little pinker than usual. I laughed softly, a feeling of affection dancing in my chest.

I didn’t look up from the photo until I heard a soft “POP” from the stove as my pan of sauce began to bubble. I dashed for it, setting down the phone until I could move the pan onto a separate burner, then shut off the heat. With my sauce cooling, I turned my attention back to the photo.

It was hard to look away from. It was so telling, in a way. Like a perfect representation of their family dynamic. But there was something other than that, too. I’ll admit that I caught myself, a full minute later, zoomed in on Saeran from the torso up. There was so much conveyed in the look on his face. It was so candid, I couldn’t help smiling at this fleeting moment of shyness caught on camera.

The photo made me happy to know Saeran. He looked charming in his awkward, self-conscious way. He looked sweet. Honestly, he looked cute. I saved the photo before I could fully question what I was doing. I looked at it again before bed that night.

 

 

 

 

In January it snowed. On a blizzardy night at the end of the month, I walked to Saeyoung’s bunker with my head down, a scarf and a knit beanie barely shielding my face from the harsh wind and tiny flakes of snow streaming toward my eyes. I moved down the sidewalk with my hands buried in my pockets. The walk from the bus stop to the Choi household had never felt longer, especially with the anticipation weighing on my mind. This would be our first full RFA get-together in weeks, and I was arriving early to help set out dinner.

Although MC was the one I spoke to in the messenger, I wondered whether Saeyoung would be helping us too. I wondered, and then I pushed the thought out of my mind. It was a loaded question.

Still a block from the garage, I held my phone close to my face and pecked out a message with stiff fingers. I pocketed the phone once it was sent and jogged the rest of the way, lifting my knees high as I trudged through the thickening sheet of snow. As soon as I entered the garage, the latch on the gate clicked, indicating that it was open. No riddles or pranks this time. Someone other than Saeyoung was at the control deck. I sighed gratefully and pulled the door open.

“It’s so cold!” I banged the snow off of my boots on the rug inside. “MC? Where should I put my shoes?”

She was visible from the entrance, sitting in the living room with a blanket pulled over her legs. “Uhh, the usual place is fine. Why?”

I started unlacing my boots. “They’re covered with snow. I don’t want get your carpet-”

“It’s snowing?!” MC shot up, letting the blanket fall to the floor. As if on cue, Saeyoung and Saeran appeared from around the corner, both wide-eyed.

I smiled. “It’s been snowing since lunchtime. Do none of you go outside...?”

“We’ve been cleaning all day!” Saeyoung announced. “My bro and I cleaned the whole house together.” He tried to embrace Saeran, who responded with a gentle shove and a mumbled “stoooop,” but failed to hold back a smile.

“You should really get a place with windows.” I placed my boots off to one side and headed toward the living room, standing beside them.

“Is it....” Saeran stopped abruptly, then lowered his voice. “Is it still snowing out there?”

“Yeah. It’s coming down really hard.”

He had his arms folded against his chest. When I answered, Saeran ducked his head and emitted a soft “hmm.”

Saeyoung’s mouth stretched into a wide grin, but he spoke to Saeran softly, even gently. “Do you want to go see? It’s probably been ages since you’ve gotten to see snow, huh?”

Reaching up to scratch his earlobe, Saeran gazed toward the door. He blinked slowly with a sleepy look on his face. I half-expected him to get embarrassed. Ignore Saeyoung’s question and move on. Instead, he nodded. “Yeah....”

While the Choi family put on their winter clothes, I retied my boots and waited at the door. I caught myself bouncing in place, filled with a childlike excitement I couldn’t really decipher. When MC and Saeyoung returned, they were both wearing blue coats, black scarves, and matching knit hats with cat ears. I laughed when I saw them. “You’re definitely _that_ couple....”

“Oh,” MC whispered. “We’re _that_ couple, babe.”

Saeyoung responded at the same volume. “We are? Which couple?”

“The best one,” she said. “The cutest one.”

“Stop!” I covered my eyes with my hands. “Stop stop I take it back. I’m cringing.”

Saeran came out of his room just in time. “Are they being gross again?”

“Saeran, where’s your hat?” MC reached out to straighten the collar on his black peacoat, his neckline completely exposed. Saeran shrank awkwardly. “It’s freezing out,” she said.

“I couldn’t find it.” Saeran frowned, running a hand through his hair and looking like he wanted to hide. “We’ll be out for like five minutes, it’s fine.”

Saeyoung chimed in. “You could get sick. Here, let me go find you one of mine.”

“Saeyoung....” Saeran was glaring at his shoes, and I could tell he was struggling. Honestly, I empathized. As much as I wanted him to bundle up, he had every right to be embarrassed over his brother and sister-in-law doting on him like a kid.

“It’s- it’s not a big deal,” I cut in. “Saeran, you want my scarf?” Without taking it off, I extended one end as an offer.

For a moment Saeran looked hesitant, but he responded casually. “Sure.” I took off the scarf and handed it to him, watching him pause with it in his hands before throwing one end over his shoulder, wrapping it sloppily around his neck. Saeran crossed his arms. “Let’s go.”

Even if he didn’t thank me, I hoped he appreciated it. Either way everyone seemed more or less content with the solution, so we headed upstairs and out through the garage, Saeyoung and MC already chattering over whether there’d be enough on the ground to build a “snow fortress.”

The sun had been down for an hour, but the night sky was oddly bright. It always looks lighter when it’s snowing. We stood at the edge of the garage and stared into the air, watching heavy flakes drift slowly toward the ground where they disappeared into the thick layer of snow. Aside from our breathing, everything was still and silent. Then MC told Saeyoung something I wasn’t paying attention to, and they both ran off toward the back of the garage. Building their fortress or something. I’m not sure. I was focused on Saeran a few feet away.

It’s like he forgot we were there. He stood below the overhang at the edge of the garage, arms wrapped against his chest, eyes wide with something like wonder as he stared at the falling snow. I opened my mouth, then closed it again. Nothing I had to say felt important enough to interrupt this.

After a minute, Saeran crouched down, balancing on the balls of his feet and wrapping his arms around his legs. I lingered for a moment and then did the same. It felt weird to loom over him. He didn’t seem to notice me staring, so I let myself watch him, take in the awestruck look in his eyes, on his slightly-parted lips. He looked so small like this. His peacoat bunched up and practically swallowed his thin frame. It only heightened the sense that there was something so innocent about him.

 _This is overwhelming,_ I thought, a heavy emotion taking over. _This is too much, Yoosung. This is way more than what you should be feeling._

I realized that my heart was pounding. My legs felt all wiggly. I lowered myself until I was sitting in the snow, unable to support myself while crouching anymore. The backside of my jeans was getting soaked, but I didn’t really care.

Saeran sniffled softly. His cheeks and the tip of his nose were turning red from the cold.

 _You think he’s pretty,_ I thought. And it was true. He was really pretty. Pale skin and pink cheeks and wide green eyes. Messy red hair disheveled by the scarf —my scarf—draped over his shoulders.

The look on his face was soft and intense all at once. He looked like he was trying to memorize the moment as he experienced it.

 _You want him to look at you like that,_ I thought. And that was true, too.

I finally acknowledged the feeling in my chest, my throat, the pit of my stomach. It had been building for weeks, and I couldn’t ignore it anymore, not with him sitting right there in front of me with tiny white flakes stuck to his eyelashes. His cute eyelashes. God. This was way, way too much.

I wanted Saeran so badly it hurt.

“I show up for dinner, and everyone’s outside.”

Zen’s voice almost made me jump out of my skin. Saeran and I looked over in unison at him towering over us, somehow still looking like a runway model half-soaked from the falling snow and bundled up in two or three heavy layers of clothes.

“S-sorry,” I said, standing up on still-trembling legs. “I mentioned snow and everyone basically ran outside.”

Zen laughed softly. “Sounds like Saeyoung. I’m not surprised his family is the same way.”

At the mention of Saeyoung’s family I glanced down at Saeran, who was back to observing the snowflakes. He looked much less comfortable now that Zen had arrived. Before I could ask him to help us inside, Zen took me by the arm.

“Yoosung,” he said. “Let’s go grab Saeyoung and MC.”

I blinked, registering the meaningful expression on his face. He wanted to talk to me in private. “All right,” I finally managed to say. “Um. We’ll be right back, Saeran.” Zen pulled me around the corner of the garage, walking slowly once we were out of Saeran’s earshot.

The first thing he said was, “I didn’t know you were into guys.”

“ _Uhh_.” It’s all I could manage to say, and Zen laughed.

“Come on, you don’t have to be shy with me about it. We can skip the part where you try to deny it, too.” We slowed down to a halt, standing beside the garage in the middle of the snow. Zen stood tall with a hand on his hip.

“How could you tell?” I didn’t bother hiding the blush on my face. He probably couldn’t recognize it in the cold, and anyway, I was past the point of feeling ashamed over something so minor.

“I’m an actor. I’d be no good as a leading man if I didn’t have that lovestruck expression down to a science. Don’t you think?”

“I.... Yeah.” I shrugged weakly. Of all the times for him to pull out his big brotherly act, this was probably the best and the worst simultaneously.

“What’s wrong?”

I couldn’t meet his eyes. “I’m just still... f-figuring this out?”

With that admission, Zen’s posture softened. He leaned down a bit. “Wait. Don’t tell me you only just realized.”

I ducked my head. “Only about three minutes ago.”

“Ohh.” Zen put a hand on my shoulder, rubbing softly. “Wow, Yoosung. How’re you feeling?”

“Like I might just have a heart attack.”

“Mm.” Zen nodded. “Sounds about right. Well, listen.” He straightened up. “I won’t press you while you’re processing things. But as soon as you’re ready, you should call me. If you ever need love advice, you know I’m the guy to turn to. I’ll be your wingman.” He winked, then kept walking toward the back of the garage, where we could hear Saeyoung and MC chattering dramatically.

“Wait,” I said.

Zen stopped and turned back to me.

“Wait. You’re not telling me to give up.” I frowned at the blank expression on Zen’s face. “Why aren’t you telling me to give up?”

“I don’t understand,” he said. “Why would I ever tell you to give up?”

“He’s.... You don’t think I really have a shot with him, do you?”

Zen walked closer so that we could talk in hushed voices. “Do you want my honest answer, Yoosung?”

I forced myself to nod, though the promise of honesty was terrifying.

“I don’t know if you have a shot,” he said. “You obviously know Saeran a lot better than I do. But even if you didn’t, that wouldn’t matter.” He smiled. “A person you care about so much is always worth fighting for. You just have to show them the kind of man you can be.”

Something about that promise soothed me. It was so idealistic. It assumed so many things, like the idea that any guy could win over his male friend through charm and persistence. But still, the sentiment encouraged me. I still had a shot, even if my feelings weren’t yet reciprocated.

“That helps,” I said. “Thank you, Zen.”

Zen made me promise that I’d come to him if I ever needed love advice, and I did so reluctantly. Afterwards we went to the back of the garage and pulled MC and Saeyoung away from their sprawling snow fortress before heading inside with Saeran. Jumin and Jaehee arrived shortly after.

I’ll admit that I was pretty checked out from that gathering. I had way too much to think about. While everyone socialized, I was concentrating hard, trying to piece together my newly-discovered feelings. I’d never been in love before. I wasn’t even sure what falling in love was supposed to feel like. Almost twenty-two years old, and still just as naive as ever. Still, after that night and the feeling of fire that caught in my veins every time Saeran looked my way, I decided that I finally understood. At least just a little bit.

 

 

 

 

Saeran and I kept texting. We kept hanging out. But after that time in the snow, I was overcome with thoughts of what more I wanted to give to him. Unable to sleep, I lied in bed one night thinking of it.

First, I wanted to give him comfort. I knew that life had been difficult since his recovery, and even though he seemed close with Saeyoung and MC, certain things felt strained between them. Taking my phone from my nightstand, I turned on the display and squinted into the bright blue-ish light as I flipped through my gallery to that familiar photo of the Choi family on the couch.

Saeran was so shy, so awkward around most people, but he opened up around me. Could I be someone else for him to rely on, in different ways than how he relied on Saeyoung and MC? If I showed how much I cared, could he cry on my shoulder? I zoomed in on the photo, a heavy feeling weighing on my heart. It was kind of overwhelming.... I was already in this way too deep. I shut off the display, resting the phone on my nightstand.

I wanted to give him other things, too. I wanted to share new experiences. Even in mundane ways. I wanted to go to a movie together and talk about everything we loved or hated about it afterwards. Celebrate every satisfying moment, ridicule every cheesy line of dialogue. All of these simple things suddenly felt so exciting.

And I wanted to give him.... Well. I rolled over, staring at at the ceiling. Was it wrong for me to think about him in that way? I wanted to give him every part of me, even physically. And... I wanted him to trust me with that. Saeran struggled and endured so much. So I wanted him to let me give him something special, something he wouldn't have to work for.

With Saeran I wanted. Everything, and so badly. I had so much to give to him. I only wondered if I’d ever be enough for him to accept.

 

 

 

 

Two weeks later, I thought I had my answer.

I came over on a weekday after classes, the way I had so many times before. Saeyoung let me into the bunker after a frustrating round of riddles, unlocking it automatically from the control panel in his office. Once inside, I dropped my backpack on the living room couch.

“Saeran?” I called. “I’m here.”

The house was oddly silent. He wasn’t waiting for me on the couch that day, which was unusual. Thinking little of it, I checked the bathroom first, then the kitchen. No traces of him there, either.

Saeran’s insomnia sometimes kept him up late, so I assumed that he was probably napping. When I approached his bedroom, I saw that the door was open a tiny crack and decided to knock softly.

No response.

I knocked a bit louder, and still nothing. Cautiously, I pushed the door open a tiny bit, just to see if he’d fallen asleep.

Saeran was inside. He was on the floor, sitting at the side of his bed with his legs held tight against his chest and his face hidden against his knees. He was trembling there, breathing heavy, and when I opened the door he didn’t look up at me. Driven impulsively forward, I pushed my way inside, stopping halfway between Saeran and the door. “Saeran?” I tried to sound calm. “Saeran, are you okay?”

He lifted his face just enough that I could see his eyes. They were bloodshot and rimmed with tears, and his gaze didn’t lift up from the floor. “S-Saeyoung,” he murmured.

“Hey.” I drew a few slow steps forward and tried to sound soothing. “I’m... I’m here, Saeran. What can I do for you?”

“Saeyoung,” he repeated, voice quivering. “Get my brother.”

My head nodded. “Okay.” Weightlessly, I fled to the other room and found Saeyoung seated at his computer desk. He turned around when I entered the room, eyebrow quirked up in surprise.

“Saeran needs you,” I said, and then followed him running back to Saeran’s room.

Carefully, Saeyoung cradled Saeran in his arms, and it was like a dam burst open. While before he was tense and quivering, Saeran now clung tightly to his brother’s shirt, releasing choked sobs between rapid, desperate breaths. I stood off to the side, feeling hollow. I’d never seen Saeran crumble like this, transform so completely. Saeyoung was whispering things to him that I couldn’t hear.

I didn’t realize how long I’d been standing there, arms hugged tightly around my chest, until Saeyoung glanced my way. Immediately I was backing toward the door.

“Another time, Yoosung,” he said softly.

I nodded, and I left.

Though sunset hadn’t happened yet, the sky was dark with heavy clouds. It made me feel so lost in myself. Driven by impulse, I crossed the street from Saeyoung’s place and headed toward the park, scolding myself in a million ways.

Why had I left without a word? Why hadn’t I given him any reassurance? Why did I hesitate when he asked me to get Saeyoung? I went through every step of the interaction in my head, and at every step, I’d faltered completely. There was Saeran, having some kind of breakdown, needing help and kindness. And there I was, standing around like a stunned animal.

The walk to the park went faster than it ever had. I barely realized I was there until I was ascending the hill to our picnic table, the sky now dark as night settled in.

On the table, I laid back with my arms spread out on either side of me, shoes resting on the seat below. The night was cold, the wind blowing softly against my bare face. I took a deep breath, and with the wide sky encompassing all I could see, it almost felt like free falling. I should be so lucky. I wished I could fall off the face of the earth.

Throwing my hands over my face, I replayed the interaction with Saeran in my head. I felt ashamed, knowing how awkward I’d been when he needed support. But that wasn’t the real issue, was it? That’s not what really bothered me.

What bothered me the most was that Saeran didn’t need me at all.

For months I let myself believe I was getting close to him. That soon we could even start opening up about our deeper feelings. But in his moment of weakness, Saeran couldn’t even look me in the eye.

I knew it was messed up to feel that way. I should’ve been happy that Saeran trusted his brother so much, after all they’d been through. And my worry for him should’ve eclipsed my self-pity entirely.

But avoiding jealousy isn’t that simple, right...? I think it lives in the darkest parts of you.

I took my hands away and gazed up at the sky. It was February now. If it weren’t for the clouds, I could’ve seen Gemini. I could’ve shown Saeran the constellation for his star sign.

“The twins have each other,” I whispered to myself, so quietly that I could imagine the wind blowing my voice away, leaving no trace of it. “The twins have each other and MC, just like always. Who do _you_ have, Yoosung?”

Rika was out of the picture. The other RFA members had their own lives. My friends at school had girlfriends or boyfriends or best friends from their hometowns, from preschool. And who did I have?

“No one, I guess.”

 

 

 

 

I was sitting in class a couple weeks later, listening to my Animal Physiology professor lecture on about something I was barely paying attention to. My head kept drooping, my eyelids heavy. Each time when I shot upright, jolted awake by the fear of falling asleep in class, the lecture Powerpoint would inevitably be on a new slide that I didn’t recognize. I gave up on my notes about twenty minutes in. I’d been spending way too much time up late playing LOLOL, trying to distract myself from my burning wreck of a social life.

My head started sinking downward again, but this time I was driven awake by the feeling of my phone vibrating in my back pocket. When I was sure my professor wasn’t looking my way, I slid it out and checked the display under my desk.

There was a single new text alert.

 **(12:43 PM) Saeran:** are you avoiding me

My heart fell into the pit of my stomach. Suddenly unconcerned with my professor’s wandering gaze, I unlocked the phone and quickly typed a response.

 **(12:43 PM) Yoosung★:** Of course not!!

I considered asking him why he’d think such a thing, but I knew there was no denying it. I’d barely spoken to him since my last visit. I sent something along the lines of “I’m here for you. Let me know if you need anything” the night of, but nothing since.

 **(12:43 PM) Yoosung★:** I’m sorry Saeran

 **(12:43 PM) Yoosung★:** that I haven’t texted you recently.... :(

What else could I possibly say? While digging for a real explanation, his reply came in.

 **(12:45 PM) Saeran:** thought you were mad or freaked out

I stood up from my desk. I needed to get away from the lecturer’s droning voice, from the anxiety of being caught texting in class. Feigning a bathroom break, I headed to the quiet hallway outside, lowered myself to the ground, and sat with my back against the wall.

 **(12:46 PM) Yoosung★:** No Saeran. I’d never be mad at you.

 **(12:46 PM) Yoosung★:** or freaked out either.

 **(12:47 PM) Yoosung★:** I thought maybe you needed space? Sorry that was dumb wasn’t it

 **(12:47 PM) Saeran:** no

 **(12:47 PM) Saeran:** I didn’t need space though. the thing you saw happens a lot

 **(12:47 PM) Saeran:** it’s not really a big deal but I’m sorry you had to see

I threw my head back, hitting it against the wall hard enough that it throbbed with pain. Stupid, stupid, stupid. I’d been thinking about Saeran constantly over the past weeks, but apparently not enough to consider that he’d be bothered by my total silence.

Somehow, I’d assumed he didn’t want to hear from me. I knew that thought was ridiculous as soon as I read his text, but after my last visit, it was so easy to imagine that I’d misinterpreted our entire friendship, that he was only putting up with me.

So stupid. So self-absorbed.

 **(12:48 PM) Yoosung★:** You have nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry.

 **(12:48 PM) Yoosung★:** I misread everything when I should’ve just talked to you

 **(12:48 PM) Yoosung★:** Can we hang out soon? I m

I didn’t send that last text. I stared at it, half-written, my pulse steadily climbing. Three words hovered in my mind, sat at the ends of my fingertips. Was this too much? Would it weird him out?

Whatever. I wrote them anyway, then hit Send.

 **(12:49 PM) Yoosung★:** Can we hang out soon? I miss you.

I barely had to wait for his response.

 **(12:49 PM) Saeran:** Of course

 **(12:49 PM) Saeran:** I miss you too

  
  
  


That evening I arrived at Saeran’s house in the rain. My clothes were soaked through, so I pulled my hoodie off the second I walked through the front door. Saeran sprinted from the control panel to meet me in the entryway.

“It’s raining?”

I smiled weakly. “Tell Saeyoung you guys _really_ need a place with windows.”

Saeran laughed softly—not the high-pitched laugh I treasured, but an equally nice one. It set me at ease. “I’ll pass along the message again.”

After bringing me a towel to dry off my hair, Saeran shuffled awkwardly from one foot to the other. “Are you fine staying in today...? Saeyoung isn’t home.” I got the sense he added that last bit as a reassurance.

“Of course,” I said. “We could watch a movie or something. Or just hang out.”

“Okay. Let’s go to my room.”

I’d only been into Saeran’s room a handful of times, and only briefly, so this time I really got to examine it. He had a plain full-sized bed in one corner, a dresser, a desk, and a small entertainment center shelving a TV. There was a little bookshelf in one corner with a number of paperbacks and a few spines I could recognize as comic books. On his desk, a few scented candles, three pill bottles, and a laptop. Apart from his unmade bed, everything was clean to the point of feeling sterile. The white walls in his room were empty.

“I’m surprised you have a TV,” I said. “I always watch things on my laptop.”

“Mm.” He stood in the middle of the room, looking uncertain. “Saeyoung bought it because... sometimes I like to fall asleep with it on.”

“Oh! That’s nice,” I said too quickly. “That was nice of Saeyoung.”

I listened to Saeran take in a sharp breath. “You and Saeyoung don’t talk as much as you used to.” He mumbled it, then folded his arms when I started gawking at him. “S-sorry,” he said, averting his eyes. “I shouldn’t have said that, should I?”

I shook my head. “No, it’s okay! You just caught me off guard.” Feeling tense, I moved slowly toward the foot of Saeran’s bed, watching his body language as I took a seat. He followed me in sitting on the other end. “Um. Saeyoung and I used to be good friends. We still are friends, of course. I love Saeyoung, and everyone in the RFA. But....” I fidgeted with my hands, struggling to articulate it. “We’re just... not as close as I thought we were.”

“Oh,” Saeran said. I got the sense he wanted to ask more, but how else could you respond to a statement like that?

Squeezing my knuckles, I forced a subject change. “I’ve been trying to get closer to other people. My friends from school, for starters. But... uh, also you.” I’d been staring at my hands. “So... I’m sorry for disappearing like that. Please don’t take it personally. It was all my dumb assumptions.” Cautiously, I glanced over to gauge Saeran’s reaction, my bangs falling into my eyes.

He looked... nervous.

I sat up straight. “Are you okay?”

Saeran nodded. “I’d like to be close to you, too.” He said it slowly, articulating every syllable. After a pause, he continued. “But....”

Of course. I braced myself for the impending rejection.

“I’m way worse than you think I am,” he breathed.

“Huh?” I blinked, caught totally off-guard. “What do you mean ‘worse?’”

“The way you saw me the last time you came over.” His voice low and breathy, Saeran stared at his bedspread, not once glancing upward. “I didn’t want you to see me like that, but if we get close, then it’s....” He shrugged. “You’ll see that more often. And worse.”

“Saeran....”

He twisted his body away from me, picking his feet off the floor to pull his legs up against his chest. Eyes half-lidded, Saeran gazed across the room.

“Hey.” I moved a bit closer to him, smiling softly. “Saeran, I don’t care about that. You’re still recovering. It makes sense that you struggle sometimes. I don’t want you to hide that. I want....”

I stopped myself. This was such a delicate line. Too much could have the opposite effect than what I was intending.

“I want to see that side of you,” I said anyway.

He twisted his head slightly in my direction, still not completely looking over.

“I’ve seen so many sides of you already. I’ve liked all of them so far.” When he didn’t respond, I kept going. “The side that’s gentle and kind. The side that’s smart and curious. There’s a part of you that’s really blunt, too, and I lo... I admire that. It’s like, people always think I’m so innocent, but I never feel like you’ll judge me for my mean thoughts.”

I couldn’t quite decipher the expression on his face. It was something intense, something introspective. Like I was only seeing a surface-level glimpse of thoughts that were too big to understand. Come to think of it, a lot of Saeran’s expressions were like that. When he spoke, his voice shook. “This isn’t the same. It’s not a good part of me.”

“That’s okay. We all have bad parts. I'm sure you've seen some of mine.” I swallowed heavy. “And... I don't just mean being addicted to LOLOL, either.”

“Mm.”

I didn’t know what that meant. After a long silence, I continued cautiously.

“I... I was in therapy for a while. Otherwise I’d be a lot different now. I did a lot of unhealthy things, after I found out about... uhm.”

He turned to me. “You can say her name.”

I inhaled through my mouth, pausing before I said it. “About Rika.”

Saeran sat unmoved for a moment, then lowered his eyes. “If we got closer, would we ever talk about her?”

“Not if you didn’t want to.”

“I might want to.... Just sometimes.”

“Okay. I think I also might want to.” I lowered a bit, trying to get a clearer read on his face. “We could talk about whatever you want. If there are things you can’t say to Saeyoung or MC, you could say them to me.” I added quickly, “Th-there are things I can’t say to those two, either. Or anyone else in the RFA.” I got quiet. “... But I’d be okay if you heard them.”

Saeran didn’t move. He mumbled something that I couldn’t hear.

“What?”

“I just don’t want to hurt you.”

I stared at him, unspeaking.

“I get so much worse than what you saw. Sometimes I scream. I say cruel things. I’ve hurt Saeyoung before. I- I never would again, but I-” His voice broke. “I’ve attacked my own brother.”

Though he sat right in front of me, Saeran felt a mile away. I wanted so badly to reach out and touch him, to pull him close to me and express everything just by holding him tight. Instead, I searched my brain for a response that didn’t sound completely empty.

“I’m not afraid of you,” I finally said.

He glanced over, staring at me blankly.

“Maybe that sounds weird,” I said, “but I can’t even imagine being afraid of you. I’m so....” I stopped before that sentence headed somewhere I couldn’t come back from. “I know what you’ve done. Logically, in my head, I know it. That you’ve hurt Saeyoung, and... what happened to V....”

I thought I saw him cringe slightly.

“But it doesn’t change how I feel. I feel like you’re one of the nicest friends I’ve ever had, and I love spending time with you, and....” A broken laugh left my mouth. “And the two weeks I just spent not talking to you really, really sucked. I think at some point you kind of became my best friend?” I covered my mouth. “Crap, I shouldn’t say that.”

Saeran’s eyes widened. “You really think of me like that?”

My head ducked, I nodded slightly. “Yeah. Especially if we can talk like this. I always want you to tell me how you’re feeling, even if it’s scary. I care about you.”

Saeran didn’t seem relieved by my words. His eyebrows tensed up, teeth digging into the corner of his mouth. But when he spoke, I knew that I’d said something right, because he asked in a shaking voice, “You aren’t going to leave?”

I sighed softly. “No, Saeran.”

“Please don’t make me a fool again.”

“I’d never. I promise.”

He sat up taller, his face tense and desperate. I watched his bottom lip, afraid that it might start bleeding where he was biting it. Saeran seemed on the verge of crumbling again, like he had the other week.

I tilted my head, gazing at him softly. “Do you want me to call Saeyoung?”

“No,” he said. And the way he looked at me, I knew what he meant.

I held out my arms. Saeran leaned into them without pause, embracing me by the torso and burying his face in the crook of my neck. Gently, I curled my arms around his back, tracing a hand lightly up and down his spine.

“It’s okay,” I whispered. “I’m here.”

He didn’t cry, but his quaking breaths shook me to my core. I held onto Saeran firmly. If this was a way to give him comfort, then I’d show as much comfort as possible. I’d radiate comfort out of my skin if I could. I scooted closer to Saeran, allowing him to sit more naturally as he leaned against my body. Moving my face closer to his ear, I took long, slow, deep breaths. After a few counts, he started trying to match my pace. We breathed slowly together, him relaxing into my arms the more he calmed down.

This is what I’d been imagining—this chance to give comfort Saeran, to be relied on. It was so different than I expected. I think I expected to feel magically stronger. Even more embarrassing, I imagined him feeling so soft and trusting. That expectation was naive, wasn’t it? Instead, it just felt like us, Yoosung and Saeran, sharing a moment that was painful and heavy... but pretty intimate, too. It was hard to see him in pain, and in a way, it was even hard to give him this support. It’s like there was a weight on my chest.

But I wanted this more than before. It doesn’t really make sense. It hurt more than I thought, but I wanted to care for him more than ever.

Minutes passed. Saeran finally spoke, his voice surprisingly calm. “Sorry,” he said. “This was kind of a bummer.”

I hummed softly. “That’s all right. I feel closer to you.”

“Yeah,” he said. I felt Saeran turn his head, so that his eyes were resting against my shoulder. “Hey Yoosung?” he said.

“Yeah, Saeran?”

He exhaled slowly. “Nothing. Never mind.”

As much as I wanted to press him on that, I held back, instead observing the way my heartbeat raced in my chest. The tension in the air had changed. Saeran lifted his head and pulled away from me slowly, leaving my shoulder feeling cold and bare in the absence of his touch. As he moved away, our hands slid down one another’s arms, until my palms were resting against his wrists, and his against mine. Just a few more inches. Just a small adjustment, and we’d be holding hands. I wondered if he was thinking the same thing.

Before I could work up the nerve, Saeran took his hands away, placing one in his lap and brushing the hair from his face with the other. “So,” he said, his eyes cast downward. “Movie?”

Feeling breathless, I nodded. “Yeah.”

I don’t know what kind of movies I expected Saeran to like. Horror films and dramas seemed equally likely. Maybe comedies, but like, the kind for smart people. So when he put a musical into the DVD player, I was a bit taken aback.

“You like things like this?” I’d settled on his bed, my feet up on the mattress and my back against the wall. Saeran crawled beside me, sitting down to face the TV.

“Y-yeah,” he said. “At times like this.”

I tilted my head. “You mean when you’re feeling... uh, anxious?”

He nodded slowly, staring at the TV screen. “I know,” he said, “they’re corny as hell. They just feel... simple, I guess. Easy to watch. There’s nothing to get fucked up about in a musical. Even a sad one.”

I didn’t really understand, but I nodded anyway. “I don’t think they’re too corny. I love things like this.”

He turned to me. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” I smiled, and Saeran returned the gesture.

“You would,” he said, glancing back at the TV screen. “Dork.”

 

 

 

 

The movie was hard to focus on. Saeran fell asleep on my shoulder. His hair was soft and fuzzy against my cheek, and when I reached out my hand, our fingers were touching.

 

 

 

 

I could tell that Saeran was awake again. His breathing had sped up, and he was facing the TV. When I peeked down from the corner of my eye, I could glimpse his eyelashes moving slowly each time he blinked. We weren’t exactly holding hands, but he’d moved his beneath mine in a slow motion that could almost pass off as an accidental, had he still be sleeping. My fingertips rested on his knuckles. I thought my heart was going to burst out of my chest.

 

 

 

 

“Hey, Saeran?”

He froze for just a second before responding. “Yeah?”

“I like you.”

Saeran didn’t move.

“I’m sorry if that’s weird to hear. But I really like you so much. It’s overwhelming.”

I couldn’t hear the movie anymore. My head was swimming.

“If you...”

His head tilted slightly on my shoulder.

“If you were my boyfriend, I’d give you the whole world.”

And then his head wasn't on my shoulder anymore. His hand wasn't underneath mine. Saeran was sitting up next to me, looking in the other direction. Not at me, not at the movie. He stared at the wall, his posture limp.

“Sorry,” he said.

I nodded. “No. I’m sorry.” My body moved by itself. I crawled off of the bed and stood up on his carpet on two numb legs. When I turned around, Saeran’s neck was craned even further to the side so he could continue hiding his face.

I waited for a few moments, just in case he had anything else to say. But he stayed silent.

“Let’s hang out again soon.” It was hard to talk without making it obvious how close I was to crying. “We can go on a walk when the weather clears up.”

Saeran just nodded. I left his room, hoping he couldn’t hear the muffled sob I emitted once his door was closed behind me.

 

 

 

 

“I’m going to _throw UP_.” I shouted louder with each word, planting my face into the cushions on Zen’s couch, curled in a ball at one corner.

“It’s because you drank too much,” he said without sympathy.

I rolled onto my back, one arm flailing wildly over my body and off the side of the couch. “It’s because I’m _in LOVE_.”

“Still,” he said, “please don’t throw up on my couch.” Zen was moving around his apartment, calling from the kitchen as he brought empty beer cans to his recycling bin. “Go to the bathroom if you think you’ll vomit. I mean it.”

I blinked lazily at his ceiling, trying to gauge the level of nausea in my stomach. None of it had moved up my throat, so I figured I’d be all right. “I won’t throw up,” I said. “Vom.... I won’t vom.” It was an odd phrase. I tried it again, slower. “I’m not going to vom, Zen.”

“Really dude?” He was pouring me a glass of water, and then closing his curtains. “I thought you learned to handle your liquor. You did fine at the last party.” Then he was sitting on the couch again, which was a little disorienting, and that was the moment when I realized.

“I drank too much.”

“No kidding. Drink the water, Yoosung.”

Sitting up slowly and observing just how loosely my torso swirled from side to side, I collected the glass of water on Zen’s coffee table. Cautiously I took a sip. When it didn’t heighten my need to “vom,” I drank a little more. “This is good water.”

“Thanks, it’s tap.” Zen had been thumbing at his phone, but now he turned it off, resting it on the arm of the couch. “Okay, answer me honestly. Are you actually super wasted, or are you just being goofy? I only ask because you haven’t tried to grope me yet. Oh, by the way? Makes a lot more sense now that I know you like guys.”

“I’m....” I rested the half-empty glass of water on my knee, gazing at the opposite wall. “Pretty lucid. Just kind of hazy?” I paused for a second, then added. “And vom-ish.”

“Okay,” he said. “Good. So we can have a _lucid_ conversation about this, then.”

I whined into the glass of water back at my lips. After taking a few quick sips, I frowned in Zen’s direction. “ _Now_?”

“Don’t give me that. You promised we’d talk about it once you’d had a few drinks.”

“Yeah.... That sounds like me.” I actually remembered it clearly. Zen was right; I was being a little goofy. It was more enjoyable than thinking about the crushing pain in my chest. “Oh, God,” I muttered, already starting to tear up again. “Zen, it hurts.”

“Tell me what happened,” he said. “Start at the beginning.”

“The beginning,” I said, repressing the urge to cry. “Well. I went to his house today.”

“Uh-huh.”

I went ahead and downed the rest of my glass of water, setting the empty glass on the coffee table before flopping back on the couch, sitting half-upright with my legs sprawled out, feet resting on the floor. Staring at the ceiling, I continued. “We... opened up about some things. Some rough conversations.”

“Like?”

I blinked slowly. “Saeyoung.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Zen lean over to get a clearer view of my face. “Wait, what’s the deal with Saeyoung?”

“Nothing,” I said. “Not important. I’m moving on, Zen.”

He sat back again slowly. “Okay....”

“We talked about Saeran’s issues. Some of mine. Uhh.... Those details aren’t important either. It was just really good. He opened up and let me be close to him.” For a brief moment my heart leapt at the memory, until I remembered the context of this storytelling session. Tears pricked at my eyes again. “I felt so close to him, Zen. It’s like he really _trusted_ me.”

The longer I sat there relaying this story, the more this hurt. I’d been sinking into Zen’s couch, my body feeling heavier and emptier all at once. I wondered if I’d be able to pull myself upright if I _did_ have to throw up, or if I’d lose out to the weight of my heartbreak.

“So then what happened?” he urged.

“We watched a movie,” I said. “He picked out a musical.”

“Which musical?”

I shot Zen an incredulous glance, to which he smiled apologetically. “Ah, sorry. Go on, go on!”

“Hmph.” I looked back up at the ceiling. “We watched it for a while, and then he fell asleep on my shoulder.”

“Wait,” Zen said. “Did he lean on your shoulder, then fall asleep? Or did he fall asleep and _then_ lean on your shoulder?”

I rubbed my face with one hand. “Zen, I’m too drunk to.... No wait. Fell asleep first. Then shoulder. But then he woke up.”

“Oh?”

“He woke up, but he didn’t move off of my shoulder. Then he like, sort of half held my hand? And I looked at his eyelashes, and they were really pretty.”

Though Zen didn’t say anything, he leaned in, clearly invested in the story. If I weren’t so drunk I’d feel embarrassed about all this, but all the cringeworthy details were coming pretty naturally.

“And then there was this part in the movie where the girl was out in the streets, and she was singing, and everyone around her was singing.” I swallowed. “Everyone was so happy and excited, and the streets were like _beautiful_. I think there was a parade, even though there was no reason for it. And I thought... oh god, this is bad. I thought how every day with Saeran is like that. A parade with no reason for it, just for me.” I rubbed my eyes. “Please don’t make fun of me for that.”

“I wouldn’t,” Zen said sincerely. His voice was soft and slow. “I know how that feels.”

I took a deep breath. “And then I said, ‘Saeran, I like you. I really, really like you.’ I think I said that if he dated me, I’d give him the world. And then he stopped touching me, and he said he was sorry, and I left.”

“Wait, that’s it?” Zen said. “You didn’t even talk about it?”

“Not really. That’s mostly it.”

“Just mostly? If there are more details, they’d really help me-”

“I don’t want to!” The shout came out halfway as a sob, and then I was crying. It happened all at once. I threw back my head and sobbed, tears dripping down the side of my face and uncomfortably into my ears. “I don’t want to think about it anymore,” I cried. “It hurts. It hurts. What am I supposed to do, Zen?”

Zen was at my side then, a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Hey, hey,” he said. “It’s okay, Yoosung.”

“It’s not okay,” I said. “He wouldn’t even _look at me_ , Zen. Do you know how that feels? I finally found someone I want to give my whole heart to, and he won’t even _look_ at me!” I let out a pained groan. “I let myself imagine being with him. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it for _weeks_! How am I supposed to get over this? And... I never even got the chance to make him happy.” At those final words, my voice shrank.

“You’re right,” Zen said, taking his hand away. “It’s true that it’s not okay. But I promise you, Yoosung, it _will_ be.”

I sat up then, trying to rub the tears from my face and my ears. I turned away from Zen, facing toward his kitchen. “Don’t tell me I’ll get over him,” I said. “I don’t _want_ to get over Saeran.”

“Yoosung.” Zen took me by the shoulder, turning me until I faced him again. “You’re not going to get over Saeran. You’re going to fight for him.”

I stared blankly at him, then ducked my head. “ _Ughhh_ , shut up.... Don’t d- do this to me.”

“Yoosung, listen.” His voice was calm and soothing, and I hated how quickly his stupid reassurances calmed me down. “Remember when I said I’d help you with Saeran? I meant that. Ever since I realized you liked him, I’ve been watching you two. In the messenger and at our little get-togethers.”

I blinked, my vision blurry with tears. “Yeah...?”

“He definitely has feelings for you, Yoosung.”

My heart started pounding, completely against my will.

“I know he doesn’t talk much,” Zen continued, “but the way he looks as you tells me everything. The way he’s always asking you questions in the messenger.... He’s probably just nervous. That’s why you have to fight for him, you know? It’s just like I told you before.”

I sighed, casting my gaze to an empty corner of the room. He was convincing me way too easily. “Isn’t that wrong, though? He already _knows_ me.” I looked Zen in the eye. “You know? Why should I keep fighting for someone who isn’t fighting for me back?”

“Listen to yourself,” Zen said. “You _know_ you’ve got it backwards.”

“Huh...?”

He smiled in a way that looked so self-assured. “I don’t know Saeran as well as you, but we both know the guy’s had it rough. Don’t forget that just because he’s come such a long way.” He put his hand on my shoulder again. “He’s probably dealing with so much more than we realize. I bet Saeran’s fighting for you _all the time_ , Yoosung. Just in ways you don’t see.”

My mouth hanging slightly open, I processed Zen’s words. The idea that Saeran was fighting for _me_ felt like entirely too much. Too greedy. A thought I _could_ indulge myself on, but shouldn’t.

“And _that’s_ why,” he said, “ _you_ have to keep fighting. Not to win his heart, because you already did that. Just make him comfortable, Yoosung. Show Saeran that you want him enough to be patient.”

I averted his eyes, speaking quietly. “You really think that’ll work...?”

Zen rubbed my shoulder one last time before pulling a hand away. “I’d stake my reputation on it. And reputation is the only thing a lonely guy like me has.” He halted, staring into space. “Well, that plus my looks and my talent. But most guys are stuck with reputation.”

I snorted, resisting the urge to make fun of him. “Thank you, Zen,” I said instead.

With a final wink, Zen lifted my water glass from the table, standing to bring it toward the kitchen.

“Um.”

He stopped, took one look at me, then lowered himself back onto the couch.

I stared at my knees. “It means a lot that you stayed up to help me,” I said. “You really didn’t have to.”

From the corner of my eye, I could see Zen tilt his head. “What are you talking about?” he said. “Of course I had to help. Not to get too sappy or anything, but I’ll always look out for you, Yoosung. That’s what the RFA does, isn’t? We rely on each other.”

Zen put a hand on my head, ruffling my hair gently. It felt nice. No one had touched my hair in a while. “You know you can always come to me with your problems,” he said, “right?”

I don’t think Zen realized how hard those words hit me. When I wrapped him in a tight hug, he mostly seemed confused.

 

 

 

 

Make him comfortable. Show that I was willing to be patient.

It was surprisingly subdued advice from Zen. I supposed I didn’t give him enough credit—I thought it would be difficult for him to give love advice that didn’t involve grand gestures, poetic monologues, and mushy romantic displays. Showing patience and openness.... It was simpler and more difficult at the same time.

You can’t just say “I’ll wait for you, take your time” with a bouquet of roses. (Well, I _could_ have, but it probably would have stressed him out.)

All I could do was be honest and open about my feelings. The next morning I got home from Zen’s place. I turned on my computer, opened up a new email, and wrote what I really felt.

 

_Saeran,_

_I want you to know that nothing I feel about you has changed. I care about you and our friendship, so I’ll gladly be whatever you want me to be. If you’re happy, I’m happy. But you should know that I haven’t changed my mind either._

_If you ever decide that you want me, I’m yours._

_Always,_ _  
_ _Yoosung_

 

 

 

 

When I got a phone call two nights later in the middle of the raid and peaked at my phone on the desk to see a “SAE” in glowing white letters, I nearly fell out of my chair. By the time I looked closer to see that the full name on display was actually “SAEYOUNG,” I’d already thrown a quick apology to my guildmates and logged out, so I had no excuse to ignore the call. I wouldn’t have regardless, but I’ll admit the thought tempted me.

“Hello?”

“Yoosung,” Saeyoung said, with only a hint of his usual enthusiasm. “Hey.”

“Hey, Saeyoung.” I turned my computer speakers down, muting the LOLOL menu music, and went to sit down on my bed. “What’s up?”

“It’s about Saeran,” he said, and before I could freak out he added, “Nothing bad! I just have a question for you.”

“Okay,” I said, already tense.

Saeyoung sighed into the other end of the receiver. His voice when he spoke was loud and resonant, and although I was alone in my silent bedroom, I could almost feel his presence in the room with me. Saeyoung was just charismatic like that. He always had been. “I’m not trying to invade his privacy,” Saeyoung said, “but Saeran’s been going through a rough patch the last few days. This time he won’t tell me _or_ MC what’s going on, so we’re really....” His voice trailed off. “You don’t have to tell me, of course, but I was just wondering if he’s told you what’s going on, or if not, if you could try-”

“I confessed to him,” I said abruptly, then bit my lip.

In any other circumstance, his reaction would’ve had me laughing. He _stammered_. “Whhaa- _oh_. That’sssss. _You_... wh.... O-oh. Oh. Well okay.”

I listened, wide-eyed, to the most flustered series of noises I’d ever heard out of Saeyoung Choi’s mouth, then tried to ignore them and push through the conversation. “Um, yeah. I can’t say for sure, but I’d guess he’s upset about that.”

Saeyoung was shuffling on the other end. “I thought you guys were having a fight...?”

I straightened up. “He told you that?”

“Not exactly, no. But when he seemed down a couple weeks ago, he said it was.... Ahh, look, nevermind. Thanks for telling me, Yoosung. That explains... s-some things, so I’ll let you get back to-”

“Wait!” I grabbed the phone with both hands by impulse. “What are you doing? You can’t just leave after that! Tell me how he’s doing!”

“R-right,” Saeyoung said. “Sorry. Saeran is fine. I don’t know how much he’d want me to share with you, but he’s far from at his worst, so you shouldn’t worry.... Wait.” The tone of his voice changed. “Yoosung, are _you_ doing all right?”

I opened my mouth and paused, a dozen snarky comments on the tip of my tongue. Closing my mouth again to gather my composure, I answered him dryly, instead. “Not the best I’ve ever been.”

He made a weak noise of empathy. “Yoosung, I’m sorry. I’m sure it’s been hard for you, too.”

I didn’t have the energy _or_ the willpower to make a show of accepting his pity. I turned away from the phone and sighed softly. Saeyoung could change the subject himself.

“Oh,” he said stiffly. “But Yoosung? Can I ask you just one thing?”

I frowned, turning back to the receiver. “What is it, Saeyoung?”

“Listen....” He paused, which showed me that whatever he was contemplating had to be really important. As much as I hated to admit it, Saeyoung was basically a genius. Well, at least his brain worked really fast. So whenever he paused before giving an answer, that meant he was usually considering a bunch of possibilities, looking for the best thing to say.

I fidgeted with my bedspread between my fingertips until he seemed to have his perfect response, and he delivered it in a rare serious tone. “Saeran values you a lot. I hope you realize that, Yoosung. You’re the first person aside from MC and I who he really seems comfortable around. I understand that your feelings are raw right now, but I hope when you’re ready, you can still be a friend to him. As much as you can.”

That much seemed reasonable. It’s what I’d planned on, anyway. But Saeyoung continued.

“Please don’t shut him out,” he said. “Some people deserve that, but he’s not one of them.”

And then I got the sense we weren’t really talking about Saeran, anymore.

“I would _never_ do that to him, Saeyoung.” I sounded entirely too defensive. “Never.”

“Right,” he said, regret breaking through his calm tone. “I know, you’re kinder than that.”

“I am! I’m not a mean person. I don’t want to shut friends away.” Without realizing it, I’d started clenching my bedspread in my free hand. I got up from the bed and moved to the window, staring at the dark parking lot outside. “I know that Saeran cares about me,” I said. “He _shows_ it. I’ll always return that kindness.”

“Well, I’m glad,” Saeyoung said. “Saeran would never do anything to break your trust.”

“I could forgive broken trust, if I knew we were important to each other.”

“You are, so I’m sure he’d do his best even in the face of _really difficult decisions_.”

“It was never _about-_ ” I stopped, then groaned loudly into the phone. “Okay, can we stop this? This thing where we pretend we’re not talking about the same thing? It’s getting really annoying.”

Saeyoung didn’t miss a beat. “Wait, that’s allowed?!”

“Wha....” My voice faltered. A second passed. Then, I snorted. “Oh my _God_ , Saeyoung....”

“Sorry,” he said. I could hear the smile in his voice. “I’ve been wondering how long we’d manage to circle around it.”

I let out a long sigh, pressing my forehead against the glass window. I always dreaded this conversation, as much as I wanted it to happen. But now having it out in the open, to talk with Saeyoung honestly at last... it’s like I was physically lighter already. I closed my eyes, feeling my forehead against the slowly-warming glass. “You know,” I said softly, “if you wanted to talk about this, you could’ve just done it. Just talked to me.”

“Right. I’m sorry. Sometimes I still....” Saeyoung gave a humorless laugh. “Old habits die hard, right? Besides, couldn’t you have done the same...?”

“I was _waiting_ for you,” I said. “I just wanted you to care enough to try.”

“... Oh.”

There was a pause, and I took the opportunity to walk back to my bed, taking a seat where I stared down absentmindedly at my feet hanging over the edge. I wanted to wait for Saeyoung to go first, but I got impatient. I started. “Sorry I’ve been avoiding you,” I said.

“It’s okay. Whatever I did, I probably deserved it.”

I smiled weakly. “You really don’t know the reason...?”

“Well, I had some theories. Hung a bunch of photos on the wall with thumbtacks in them, yarn strung everywhere. That’s before MC made me take it all down.” (I rolled my eyes, but I was too scared to ask whether or not he was really joking.) “Well. At first I assumed you were mad that I kept everything about Rika from you. Which would’ve been completely justified, by the way. Call me crazy, though, but I never saw MC or Jumin or Jaehee getting anywhere _near_ my serving of your cold shoulder.

“So then I figured it had to be something else. I’m just not sure what. If I had to guess...?” Saeyoung paused, and I can hear him exhale softly. “A accumulation of all the times I fucked up? Maybe I filled up your “Bad Friend” Bingo sheet. Starting with... the whole 'you’re temporary' thing. Maybe the pranks, before that. Throw in missing your high school graduation, for good measure, and then.... What’s funny?”

I couldn’t help laughing at that last bit. “I can’t _believe_ you’re still hung up on my high school graduation,” I said. “Let me clean up your conspiracy wall, okay? It has nothing to do with _that_. The pranks aren’t part of it, either. And the time you called me temporary, that’s....” I hesitated. I wanted to tell him that that didn’t matter, either. But it would have been dishonest. I couldn’t just brush off something I still thought about on a regular basis.

“So what is it?” Saeyoung urged. “I- I’m ready to listen.”

I inhaled slowly, deciding to start at the beginning he’d just defined. “I forgave you for calling me temporary,” I said firmly. “It hurt a lot, but I forgave you, because I believed you when you took it back.” Realizing that this would be a long explanation, I scooted back on my bed until my back was resting against the wall, free arm resting in my lap.

Closing my eyes, I focused on tracing my feelings from start to finish. “After that, when I found out about... everything... about Saeran and your past... that also hurt. Just because it came as such a shock. It was hard to realize that you didn’t trust me enough to tell me those things.”

It surprised me when he cut in. “It wasn’t about trust, Yoosung, I-”

“I know.” I said it softly, but he stopped speaking as soon as I did. “You were trying to protect me. I get it. But after all of that came out, I was just upset that I didn’t know something so important about you.” I opened my eyes to stare out the window, at the lights of the city outside. “But then I thought, finally. Finally I know all of the painful secrets Saeyoung has been keeping from us. Finally I can be the supportive best friend he needs right now. And then....”

“... And then I kept the truth about Rika from you.”

“I’m not... I’m not mad at you for waiting. You told me when you and Saeran were ready, and I understand why. I’m not mad at you for taking your time to both heal first. I’m just.” It was getting difficult to continue with this. My throat felt tense, but I pushed through. “I was upset because all of that healing happened without me. It made me realize that the whole time, you never really needed me.”

“Yoosung....” His voice sounded small, even hurt. Suddenly I realized that my hands were trembling.

“I always thought we were so close. You were my best friend, Saeyoung. When you started hanging out with me after Rika disappeared, that’s.... It meant so much. It’s the only reason I started functioning again at all. I always assumed I meant as much to you. But the past couple years, you’ve had MC to rely on. And now you have Saeran. And the whole time, you never once turned to me.” I shrugged. It was all I could think of to do. “That really hurt.”

“Ohh, Yoosung,” he said. “Yoosung. I’m sorry. I should’ve realized....”

I didn’t really want to hear his apologies, not yet. “So here I’ve been, waiting for you to reach out to me and wondering whether I should just accept how distant you are. You know what I found out?” I sighed. “It’s really, really hard to replace your best friend.”

I felt guilty as soon as I said it. Especially once I was listening to Saeyoung on the other end of the line, abruptly really weepy and apologetic. He was spouting “I’m sorry’s,” and words of empathy, and although they sounded sincere, I really couldn’t pay attention. There was too much on my mind still. I finally had someone to vent to, and I wasn’t about to stop.

“I’ve been trying to get close to other people,” I said. “ Over the past few months, I mean. But it’s so much _harder_ than it used to be, Saeyoung. I feel so guarded all the time. It’s like suddenly I can’t trust myself to judge things accurately.”

“Because of me...?” he said weakly.

I exhaled sharply. I shook my head even though he couldn’t see. “No.... No, I’m sure it’s also....”

“Ah.”

“Yeah.” No further explanation needed. I sat up. “But.... But then I got to know _Saeran_.”

I worried he’d be uncomfortable, but Saeyoung responded with a small laugh. “I told you he was sincere, didn’t I?”

“He’s _so_ sincere!” I said, running a palm across my face. “He’s so _sweet_. To be honest, I was really scared that he’d hate me? But once we started talking, it’s like that fear just disappeared.” I sighed, sinking down the wall until I was lying almost flat on my back. “I’ve never felt so comfortable around someone before.”

“Wow,” he said, just a bit stiltedly. “You’ve really got it bad for him, huh?”

Okay, maybe _now_ he was getting uncomfortable. I let myself laugh, soft but unrestrained, for just a moment. And then it turned into a groan. “Oh, _God_. And then I just messed it all up.”

Saeyoung hummed sadly. “What happened, darling?”

I ignored the petname (although you’d think he’d cut back on that after getting _married_ ) and sighed heavily into the receiver. “I think I got _too_ comfortable. I think the second I let my guard down, I did the exact thing I was afraid of, Saeyoung.” I rolled over onto my stomach, pressing my face against the comforter. “I misread everything. I thought that he wanted... or that he was _ready_....” I whimpered. “God, what if Zen’s wrong? What if he doesn’t even _like_ me?”

“Yoosung.”

I rolled onto my side, curling up and cradling the phone against my ear. “What?”

“You’re ignoring the obvious facts here. Do I really need to spell it out for you?”

My chest got tight. I clenched my free hand into my shirt. “Y-yes?”

“Hmmm. _Fine_. Listen carefully to your good friend Saeyoung, okay?” He chuckled softly, his delivery now warm and soothing like an airline attendant. “Now, Yoosung,” he said. “Stand up.”

I pulled myself into a sitting position, then slid my feet onto the floor. “Okay...?”

“Now,” he said softly. “Walk to your window.... WAIT!”

I stumbled as soon as he shouted. “What, what?!”

“Right foot first!” He said coyly. I rolled my eyes, but made sure to put my right foot forward first as I walked across the room.

“Okay,” I said. “I’m at the window. Now what?”

“Stick your head outside.”

“What?” I squinted out into the parking lot, watching silhouettes of trees in the distance as they blew around almost violently. “It’s super windy and rainy out, though....”

“I know, honey, but this is an important part of your journey! Listen....” His tone became more even, more serious. “I know you’re afraid to let your guard down, Yoosung. But just do it this once, please? You'll see why.”

I wasn’t stupid. I knew for a fact that Saeyoung was messing with me, even as I opened up the window to lean briefly outside. Maybe the comment about letting my guard down intrigued me. Or maybe I did it for old times’ sake. After a few seconds of feeling cold air and rainwater on my cheeks, my hair whipping around my face, I pulled back inside. “Done. What next?”

Saeyoung hummed appreciatively. “Go to your bathroom and look in the mirror.... WAIT!” I barely heard him snicker. “Left foot first this time.”

In the bathroom, I stood awkwardly in front of the mirror, combing one hand through my windblown hair. “What next?”

“Spin around for me, won’t you?”

I rolled my eyes. “Saeyoung....”

“We’re almost done. It’ll be worth it, I promise.”

Putting my free arm at my side, I spun around once clockwise. Before I could let Saeyoung know I was finished, he urged me further.

“You’ll need to spin more than that, cutie~”

“Wait, how did you...? Ugh, whatever.” I kept spinning, Saeyoung urging me further.

“Keep going, Yoosung!” The soothing tone was dropped as Saeyoung coached me excitedly. Just a little bit more, okay? Keep on spinning, as fast as you can.”

“Saeyooooung,” I whined. “I’m getting dizzy!”

“Seven more rotations!” he said. “Six! Five! Four! Three! Two! And...!”

When I finally stopped, I had to brace myself on the countertop to remain upright. I swirled around in place. My dinner seemed dangerously close to finding a new home in the bathroom sink.

“Now look at yourself in the mirror,” he said.

Easier said than done. There were three Yoosungs spinning before my eyes, then two. But then I came into focus all at once, and I could settle my eyes on the reflection in front of me.

“What do you see?” Saeyoung prompted.

I squinted hard. The answer, frankly, was unflattering. I saw a tangled mess of damp hair, sticking up randomly on one side and only half combed down on the other. I saw the pale, sickly-looking cheeks and hanging lower jaw of a man who might just vom. And I saw a pair of eyes, normally pretty bright, squinted under harshly-furrowed eyebrows and still bloodshot from crying earlier that day.

“I look like shit,” I answered frankly.

“Mm-hmm,” Saeyoung responded. His voice was soft again. It made me feel a little less agitated, even as he agreed with me. “You look pretty terrible. But even like this, you have nothing to worry about, Yoosung. You know why?”

I closed my eyes, bracing myself for a frustrating conclusion. “No, Saeyoung. _Why_?”

“Because there’s a soft, redheaded brother of mine who loves you more than ice cream and Pop Rocks and falling winter snow, and he would kiss that cute face of yours no matter how shitty you look. Just in case that wasn’t _completely obvious already_.”

 

 

 

 

It was three weeks later when Saeran emailed me back. _Only_ three weeks later.

... I wouldn’t underestimate how long that is. Three weeks is a long time to wait for validation from someone you care about. It’s a long time to spend grabbing for your phone each and every time it buzzes, convinced that _maybe_ this alert could be something life-changing. It’s a long time to spend lying awake every night, lovesick and anxiety-sick in equal doses.  Three weeks is a long time to wonder whether your wait could be over in a day, a week, a month, a year, or maybe just never at all.

But when you’re waiting for someone you care for so much, three weeks is basically nothing. It's a blink of an eye. It’s a sentence I’d serve a hundred times in a row, if I had to.

I was sitting in a secluded corner of the library,  a cozy little nook with a comfy chair facing a window. One second I was thumbing through a math textbook, trying to guess the important bits we’d be tested on, and the next I was on my feet, my bag and my books tossed absentmindedly onto the chair. I paced around in tiny loops, reading Saeran’s reply over and over although I’d memorized it in about ten seconds.

 

_does “always” include now...?_

_\- Saeran_

 

I forced myself back into the seat. My knees were bouncing up and down, and my chest felt tight. I opened up a reply box, staring at it hard.

This response was important, right? I really had to make it count. I could write something clever or cute, something to make his heart race half as bad as mine was. Or something to calm his nerves, like a gentle but firm reassurance. Wracking my brain for possibilities, I sat in that chair with my fingers hovering over the screen, until I couldn’t stand it anymore. Probably about thirty seconds.

I shot off a giddy reply, then buried my face in my hands, grinning like an idiot.

 

_Yes!_

_Always always always._

_Yoosung_

 

 

 

 

Saeran asked by text where I wanted to meet. My apartment was a mess, and his house wasn’t exactly private, so I suggested our regular hangout place in the park. I’d been too excited to consider the heavy rain clouds outside. So of course, midway through my walk over it started drizzling, and within minutes I was sprinting through a heavy downpour. I held my backpack over my head to shield at least my face and hair from the rain.

When I arrived Saeran was sitting on the park bench, smart enough to have brought an umbrella. He stood up as I ran toward him at the top of the hill, my shoes sinking into the mud with each step.

“I’m sorry!” I called. “This is all my fault.”

Saeran held out his umbrella when I got close, allowing me to join him underneath it where I was close enough to feel his body heat, close enough to hear his steady breathing. The rain rapped at the tiny shelter barely big enough to shield us both. Still catching my breath, I stared at the collar on his sweater. Something to fix my eyes on. “I don’t even have an excuse. _My_ house has windows.” I laughed at my bad joke, somewhat pitifully. “... Ohh, God, this is such a mess. I’m sorry, Saeran. I guess I was too focused on-”

“Yoosung.”

At the quiet sound of his voice, I dared myself to look up. He stared straight at me, eyes wide with something like worry. Already, this tender feeling was forming in my chest. Something about getting to see his expressions again, every subtle look on his soft features.... It calmed me down? It made me feel so warm.

Saeran inhaled shakily. “You really like me, Yoosung?”

The way he said it caught me off-guard, but I smiled. “I do. I really like you so much.”

“I don’t.... I don’t know what I did to earn that.”

“You didn’t have to do anything,” I said. The answer came naturally. “To be honest, I think I would’ve fallen for you either way.... But it helps that you were sweet to me. You trusted me.”

“Yoosung....” He looked down, eyebrows furrowing. “I’m sorry.”

And for a second I thought that I was being rejected again, until he took just a fraction of a step closer.

“I never thought this would happen to me. I got so scared.”

My voice nearly caught in my throat. “Yeah?”

He nodded, still looking toward our feet. “I’ve been....” I watched his mouth form a tight line, heard him swallow loudly. It was clear he was struggling to express this. He gripped the umbrella handle with both hands. I wanted to put a hand on his arm or tell him to take his time, but I felt so paralyzed with nerves. Eventually, Saeran continued. “I’ve spent a lot of time feeling... vulnerable. So many people have had the power to hurt me. But I never gave someone that power willingly before.” Finally he looked at me. “Does that make sense?”

“It does. But I don’t ever want to hurt you, Saeran.”

“I don’t want to, either.”

I wanted to reach out and touch him so badly. Give him something other than my words. “I think it would be worth it,” I said instead, my voice quiet. “Even if this didn’t work. Just to be with you for a little while. It feels worth it, to me.”

Saeran nodded. I felt a cold gust of wind blow between us, gently tugging the umbrella in his hands, leaving the side of my neck and my cheek and my ear feeling cold and exposed. And then the wind calmed, and Saeran said, “I think so, too.”

A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth, but I didn’t want to let myself believe this yet. I took a tiny step closer to him, gently closing my hands around his as they gripped the umbrella. His skin felt cold. “Will you be my boyfriend, Saeran?”

Saeran smiled, too. His eyes were cast down and to the side, and it reminded me of the photo. His cheeks were even more pink. “Can we still go on walks together?”

“Of course,” I said.

“And can we do other things, too? I liked watching the movie with you.”

“Yeah.” I grinned. “It was cute when you fell asleep on me. I wouldn’t mind if that happened again.”

Saeran ducked his head, though I could tell he was smiling. “Okay,” he said. One of the hands on the umbrella handle opened up and adjusted around mine, until our fingers were interlaced. I stared at the hands between us with a little bit of awe.

“I’d like to talk on the phone more,” I said, a bit dreamily. “I want to hear your voice before I sleep at night.”

Saeran’s thumb brushed over my knuckles. “I’d like that, too.” His voice lowered. “Sometimes I fall asleep wishing you were there with me.”

A fluttery warmth erupted in my chest, and I squeezed his hand involuntarily. “... Me too. C-can I hold you? Right now?”

“Yeah.”

I had to let go of his hands so that he could wrap his arms around my back, careful to keep the umbrella overhead. Gently, I pressed my hands against his waist, moved forward until my mouth pressed against his shoulder. Saeran held me with a firmness that I didn’t expect, and I took it as encouragement to wrap my arms around his lower back.

We fit together so naturally. Saeran and I stood in the rain, huddled together for warmth and just for the feeling of closeness. I listened to the pattering of the rain against the umbrella, letting my eyes drift closed as I considered how similar it was to my wild heartbeat.

And then, just as I was getting comfortable, I realized he was shivering.

“Oh my God!” I pulled back, keeping my hands against his waist. “Saeran, you’re freezing! You’re going to get sick.” Before he could respond, I glanced around until I spotted a gazebo at the other end of the park, seemingly unoccupied. “Let’s walk over there, so you don’t have to stand in the middle of the rain.”

He took my hand silently and we headed for the gazebo, still shielded beneath his umbrella. “Do you want me to text MC?” he asked. “She can pick us up.”

“ _Please_. I can’t believe I made you stand out in the rain, I’m such a....”

I silenced myself. Saeran and I walked up the two stairs separating the gazebo from the ground. It was small, only meant for a handful of people to stand in at once, and there was a tiny bench that Saeran and I took a seat in.

“Let me text MC,” he said after closing the umbrella. As Saeran typed something into his phone, I barely resisted the urge to reach up and wipe a damp strand of hair from his face. Instead I put my hands in my lap, squeezing at my knuckles.

In a few seconds, Saeran pocketed his phone. “I asked her to come right over.”

“I’m sorry,” I blurted out.

Saeran looked at me. “... What?”

“For, like... doting on you. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” I was staring at my hands. “I- I know you’re an adult, and you can take care of yourself.”

I watched Saeran’s hand find its way into my lap, where he pulled away one hand from my own grasp and held it tight in his. When I glanced up, he was smiling.

“That’s okay,” Saeran said. “I don’t mind so much, if it’s you.”

“Oh....” I bit back a grin. Taking that as permission, I reached up with my free hand and started running it through his bangs, trying to squeeze the excess dampness from his hair. I watched Saeran’s eyes flutter closed, his lips curl upward as I worked.

“I just don’t want you getting sick,” I whispered. “I finally get to see you after almost a month. You _have_ to be well. I want to go on dates right away.” In truth, I was more than a bit worried about his weak immune system, but my earnest concern probably would’ve killed the mood.

“Mmm.” Saeran hummed at the feeling of my hand in his hair, but his smile faltered. “I’m sorry about that, by the way. For making you wait so long. You were probably sad.”

“Only a little.” I dropped my hand, placing it on top of the hands held tight between us. “It wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. Saeyoung told me you just needed some time, so I wasn’t _too_ worried.”

Saeran’s eyes opened. “You’re talking to Saeyoung again,” he said. His smile returned.

“Yeah....” I felt my heart flutter, touched by his genuine happiness. “Yeah, it sort of just happened. We’ve been talking for a few weeks now.”

“I’m glad. Now he’ll stop pestering me to ask you why you’re avoiding him.”

I snorted. “What? He really did that?”

Saeran rolled his eyes. “I _told_ Saeyoung I wasn’t going to play spy with him. I said he should just ask you himself and save us all the damn trouble.... What?”

I had pressed my head against Saeran’s shoulder, laughing softly. I shook my head. “It’s nothing,” I told him. “I just.... I like you _so_ much.”

Hesitantly, Saeran lifted his free hand and let it hover in the air for a moment before drawing it toward the back of my neck. He gently combed his fingers through my hair. Feeling goosebumps on my neck, I observed the motion until Saeran paused with his hand rested on my head. For a moment we sat there, my forehead rested on his shoulder, his hand tangled up in my hair. I became hyperaware again of the sound of his breathing. His hand holding mine had gone stiff.

I lifted my head from his shoulder, just enough to peek up and find that Saeran’s head was ducked to the side, the tips of his ears bright pink in an obvious blush. “Saeran,” I whispered. When he turned toward me sheepishly, I took just a moment to guiltlessly observe exactly how cute he was. Really, really cute. So shy and sweet, it made my heart melt. So it took a moment, as I admired the sight of his soft blush and long eyelashes, to fully register that he’d turned his face toward me and was looking me straight in the eye as our breath intermingled.

It was cold out, but I was suddenly burning up. Cautiously, I drew a hand up and brushed it against Saeran’s jaw, gently cupping his face when he didn’t pull away. Instead, he leaned into the pressure of my hand, eyes half-lidded. There were only inches between us. I sat there feeling his warm breath on my face until I couldn’t stand it anymore. Moving just slowly enough not to startle him, I closed the distance between our lips.

Kissing Saeran was soft and gentle. I let him set the pace, and he seemed content just to litter soft pecks against my lips. Still, he went in for each with a hurriedness that betrayed his excitement. Eyes closed, I let myself get dazed on the softness of his lips, the gentleness of his movements, the tight squeeze of his hand in mine. It would take a long time to process that they were now mine to experience. For the time being, I just let myself enjoy it.

 

 

 

 

No wine bottles were broken at the next party. No bottles were broken at all, and in fact, no one even got especially drunk until a reasonable hour of the evening. That doesn’t mean there wasn’t plenty to complain about.

“I still can’t believe that bartender bailed on us.” I was standing against the wall, absentmindedly rerolling the cuffs on my blue button-down shirt. Saeran stood a little off to my side. Party guests filled the room around us, but in our little corner, things were quiet enough to hold a conversation. Saeran watched me carefully, lips curved slightly upward as he listened to me rant. “Leave it to Jumin to have three backups on call, but still! It’s so _unprofessional_.”

Saeran made a small noise of empathy. “What a jerk.”

“I know, right? And _of course_ someone went ahead and invited that weird mummy guy again, so I spent like, twenty minutes trying to calm down some poor little kid. One of the college graduate ones? He was really freaked out!”

“Hmm.” Saeran frowned. “It’s a good thing you were there, though. You’re... um, good at things like that.”

His compliment caught me off-guard. Feeling my face heat up instantly, I bit back my smile. “Oh! Well, thanks. Um....” I decided to change the subject before I could get too flustered. “Jeez, and then I talked to Saeyoung? And he said my bowtie makes me look _shorter_! What does that even mean? I should friend dump him for real this time.

Saeran laughed softly. “How savage.”

“Sorry. Too mean?”

“No,” he said, adding quickly, “I like this side of you.”

I ducked my head, although I was sure he could still tell that I was grinning like a big idiot. Slowly, I stepped sideways toward Saeran, moving in close enough that our elbows were touching. Once my smile was under control, I looked up and found his soft gaze was already fixed on me.

“How about you?” I said. “Anything to vent about?”

Saeran dropped his eyes to the floor. I was surprised when I felt him snake an arm around my waist, pulling me firmer against his side. The place where his hand touched me felt hot, and my heart started racing. Physical contact between us still got me so worked up. “You’ve been running around all day,” Saeran said, shyly staring toward our feet. His cheeks had turned pink. “I don’t like sharing you with two hundred other people.”

I turned my body toward Saeran, and he mirrored my movement, looping his other arm around my waist.  He was wearing a nice black dress shirt, a suit vest, a tie.... The same outfit he’d worn at the last party, but this time I couldn’t stop thinking about how nice he looked. Hesitantly resting my hands against his chest, I glanced at the crowd around us. No one was looking our way, which felt weird. It seemed like everyone in the room should’ve been able to sense how giddy I felt. Like a huge pink beacon spinning over my head.

Saeran tilted his head, frowning. “Is something wrong?”

I shook my head. “No way! I’m just... surprised you’re being so bold in front of all these people.”

“Am I?” he said. “I feel like I’m holding back.”

“Yeah...?”

“I mean. I’m not kissing you, am I?”

My chest tightened. “N-no, you’re not....” I swallowed. “But we could, um, fix that.”

Saeran smiled. “Backstage...?”

“ _Yeah_.”

Saeran dropped his hands from my waist. With a quick glance around to make sure none of the other RFA members were watching us, I took his hand, guiding him through the room. I tried to take the least crowded path possible for his sake. Saeran stayed close at my side, tightly grasping my hand, and for a moment I felt a surge of pride at being able to help him navigate the busy, anxiety-inducing party hall. Then we ducked under a blockade and down a hallway, stopping outside a door that would bring us backstage.

I took a ring of keys out of my back pocket, reading the small labels for the one that would let us inside. As I flipped through the set of nearly-identical brass keys, I felt Saeran’s head rest on my shoulder, his arms embrace me timidly from behind. For a moment I stopped just to enjoy his warm embrace. I got shivers at the feeling of his hair on my neck.

When he spoke, his voice was small and sweet. “Hey Yoosung?”

I lifted up one arm to pet the back of his head. His hair was so soft. “Yeah, honey?”

Saeran shuddered a little at the petname, burying his face against my neck. He paused before answering. “... Thank you.” It was barely more than a whisper, but in our closeness, plenty loud enough for me to hear.

I opened my mouth, ready to ask what he meant. But then I stopped. Smiling softly, I pushed the correct key into the door, twisting it along with the knob. “You’re sweet,” I said, and I led him inside.


End file.
